


Soul Phrase

by supremenovas



Category: Soul Eater, ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soul Eater, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Gen, it's the au no one asked for but you're sure as hell getting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremenovas/pseuds/supremenovas
Summary: Everyone who lives in Japan could definitely say that life had gone from weird to weirder it the past ten odd years. What was once a rather chaotic, scattered and dangerous country was now under strict order, far more strict than anyone could have predicted. At least, that was how Ichiro saw it.In this world, they don't fight with their words, but with their very souls.





	1. Codename: Buster Bros!!

Nighttime in Ikebukuro was, while bright and normally would be bustling, surprisingly quiet. Not a person in sight, nor a breath or a footstep taken. At one point in time, the city would be somewhat lively from morning, all the way through the night. Either with friends hanging out late or with slightly... unsavory business going on in the dark alleyways. Now, in the current age they all lived in… nary a sound.

Well… that wasn’t _entirely_ true. There were the faint sounds of a single pair of feet power-walking through the streets, looking around furtively as if expecting something to jump out at them from the shadows. Or some _one._

“Shit, _shit…_ this ain’t good. If it weren’t for this damn curfew, I’d have been out of the city by now…” the man muttered to himself, still looking around as he walked faster and faster. “If only that last one hadn’t gone and made things so difficult… but it’ll be fine. If I can just get to the gates, then I’ll be out of the district and--”

 “Going somewhere, Hayabusa Makoto-san?”

Hayabusa startled and looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the voice came from. Wasn’t he the only one on the streets?! Finally, in his manic fumbling, he came face to face with someone. No, not just someone… it was a _kid._ A kid with mismatched eyes wearing a choker and a hoodie, who seemed vaguely familiar for a reason he couldn’t place.

“God, it’s just a fucking kid… hey you shouldn’t be out here; it’s way past city curfew--”

“Then what the hell’re _you_ doin’ out here, asshole?”

Spinning around, Hayabusa came face to face with _another_ boy. Clearly older than the first one, ruder, but still a damn _kid._ And this kid had those same weird eyes. Different colors, but still the same eyes. What was it about them that was so _familiar?_

“...I don’t see how that’s any of your damn business, kid.” Composing himself, he took a step forward. Even if he was outnumbered, it was still two brats against an adult. “Not why don’t you run along home to mommy before things get ugly--”

“I really don’t think you’re in a position to be making threats, sir.”

God, _another one?_ Turning to give the latest brat a piece of his mind, Hayabusa stopped when he got a good look at the newcomer. And gods above, he almost had a heart attack right there on the spot. Older than the other brats, same weird eyes… but there wasn’t a soul in Ikebukuro who didn’t know _that_ face.

“Y-yo-you’re--!”

“Can we not do the whole song and dance of you being scared shitless? It’s late, and it’s a school night.” Ichiro Yamada said, arms crossed.  “Saburo.”

Though he didn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him for a second, Hayabusa could see the youngest kid take something out of his pocket from his peripheral vision, and hear the sound of turning pages.

“'Hayabusa Makoto, age: forty-five, male. A resident of Ikebukuro, currently wanted for the murders of three women and the consumption of their souls.'”

The middle kid scoffed then. “You left out the part where the scumbag took advantage of all those girls before killin’ ‘em.” 

“I was _getting_ to that, Jiro,” snapped the youngest.

“Anyway,” Ichiro interrupted, and the other two went silent. “The point we’re getting at, Hayabusa-san, is that you’ve gone too far. You’ve secured a nice little spot on Death’s List for what you’ve done. And that means…”

Before his eyes, Hayabusa watched with growing horror and dread as the two brats--who he now recognized as Jiro and Saburo Yamada, Ichiro Yamada’s equally famous younger brothers--disappeared in twin flashes of light, and reappeared in Ichiro’s hands, but one as a metal spiked club, and the other as dagger with a very _lethal_ looking point. A point that was being pointed directly at _him._

“...that the  _Buster Bros_ will be taking your soul.”

* * *

 

“It’s mine!”

“No, it’s _mine_! It’s my turn, you shitty little brat!”

“But it was _my_ kill, stupid Jiro! Or is your pea brain really so small that you didn’t even notice when _I_ went right through his heart?”

“What’d you say, you--”

“Enough!” The two bickering brothers were successfully interrupted by Ichiro knocking them both upside the head. “It’s too damn late at night for you to be making this much noise; you’ll wake the whole neighborhood up!”

Both Jiro and Saburo whined, holding their heads. “Sorry, Ichi-nii…”

Sighing, Ichiro placed a hand on his hip, while this other held the soul they’d successfully reaped. This was the one thing he disliked about their position; it was always an argument as to who got the soul at the end of the night. Between his two younger brothers, there was always bound to be some sort of spat that Ichiro had to step in and settle.

“Alright. Saburo, you’re right, it was your kill.”

Saburo shot a victorious smirk at Jiro. “Hah! See, I told you--”

“ _B_ _ut._ Jiro’s right, it’s his turn. And we need to keep this even so you both grow at fair rate. Jiro gets the soul.”

“Alright!” Jiro cheered and pumped his fist in the air, shooting a grin at the now pouting Saburo. “You’re the best, nii-san!”

As Jiro consumed the murderer’s soul--an honestly creepy business that Ichiro never really cared to watch--Ichiro pulled out his phone and checked the time. Half past midnight…. Not _too_ late, but definitely not the time to report their results. Well, he _could,_ but pissing off a certain someone off wasn’t exactly on Ichiro’s to-do list.

 _Eh,_ he thought, _it can wait until tomorrow._

“Right,” he said, drawing Jiro and Saburo’s attention. A good thing, because they looked to be getting into yet another fight, going by how the two were now making faces at each other. “Time to head home.”

“Already?” Jiro questioned with a frown. “But I thought we were patrolling! There’s gotta be other scumbags out here, and it’s still early. 

Saburo clicked his tongue. “Jiro, don’t make Ichi-nii put up with your whining! If you actually _learned_ how to tell time, you’d know that it’s not early at all.” He sighed and shook his head. “But what else can you expect from an idiot?”

“Huh, you wanna say that again?!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Swatting them on the back of their heads once again. “Saburo, how many times do I have to tell you that Jiro’s your older brother too; show him some respect. And Jiro, stop picking fights when _you’re_ supposed to set an example!” Sighing, Ichiro rubbed his temples. “ _Any_ way, we’re not staying out later than this. I meant it when I said it’s a school night, and you both have a combat assessment tomorrow.” 

At that, both Jiro and Saburo groaned. Well, at least they could agree on one thing.

“Don’t give me that; you both know how hard those tests can go, and you need your rest. You should feel lucky it’s not _me_ who’s running it this time.”

Though, as stern as he was, seeing Jiro and Saburo looking so put out just didn’t sit right with Ichiro. Shaking his head, he reached and ruffled his little brothers’ hair, giving them a warm smile. 

“Don’t look so put out… you guys did great tonight; I’m proud of you both. Now let’s go home.”

The smiles he got in return, as always, made everything worth it. “Yes, nii-san!”

* * *

 

Everyone who lived in Japan could definitely say that life had gone from weird to weirder it the past ten odd years. What was once a rather chaotic, scattered and _dangerous_ country was now under strict order, far more strict than anyone could have predicted. At least, that was how Ichiro saw it.

“Off to Shibusen, yeah?” Was the question asked by the old, grumpy looking man running the gate to the bullet train, a limited passenger one that went straight to the Chuuoku Division, and only those with a specific pass could board.

Ichiro gave the man a friendly smile as Jiro and Saburo pushed ahead to wait for him. “As always, sir.”

A gruff sound. “Shifty business at that school… shifty goings on, with all them kids who turn into weapons... and shifty women who run it.”

Knowing better than to respond to words that could get him and his brothers into some _deep_ shit, Ichiro only nodded and boarded the train, his brothers having already found a spot to sit, away from all the commotion of students.

“What was he talking to you about, Ichi-nii? Saburo questioned with a curious tilt of the head, ever the perceptive one.

“Don’t worry about it, it was just a guy being weird.”

Jiro made a face. “If it’s the same gate guard as yesterday, he stopped me too. Kept going on about all the shit that was wrong with Shibusen and the government… shit might be harsh, but the school’s the best thing we’ve got. Otherwise a lot of people would be dead now.”

“Huh. I’m surprised,” Saburo commented. “That’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Could you actually be learning?”

“Too early, Saburo.” Ichiro sighed. “But Jiro’s right. The former government founding a branch of the Shinigami school in America was the best decision they’ve ever made. You two were too young to realize, but ten years ago… it was bad. I had to protect you from a lot… so when the school opened, I had to work my ass off to get where I am now.” He grinned. “And now I get to teach you both what I know.”

“Nii-san…” The two younger Yamadas seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment… and the Saburo spoke up.

“But now, with the Party of Words in power, all normal weapons were banned and destroyed two years ago. All that’s left are us, and we’re kept under strict regulation. No Demon Weapon can be without a registered Meister, no reaping of souls without express permission from the Headmistress, and that's just the beginning…”

The mention of the Headmistress made Ichiro’s expression darken for just a brief moment, but he was able to hide it with a smile before his brothers could see. “Hey, don’t worry about it. The laws are there to keep you safe, and when they can’t, then I will. Promise.”

Jiro and Saburo were thankfully pacified, and the train ride went on without a hitch.

* * *

 

Reporting to the Headmistress of _Shinigami Buki Shokunin Senmon Gakkō_ \--or 'Shibusen' for short--had to be the part of Ichiro’s day that he looked forward to the least. But there he was, in front of her office, and he knew that if he waited any longer, things would only be worse. Sighing, he raised a hand and knocked on the large, ornate door that lead into the Headmistress’ office.

“Enter.”

Opening the door, Ichiro gave the two women inside a respectful bow. “Ichiro Yamada, reporting in results from last night’s mission.”

Behind a large (and in Ichiro’s opinion, unnecessarily gaudy) desk, Headmistress and Prime Minister of Japan, Otome Touhouten hummed and didn’t even look up from her paperwork as she addressed him. Like he wasn’t even worth her time.

“I expected you to report in last night, Yamada. Enlighten me on why you did not.”

“Touhouten-san--”

He was quickly interrupted by the other person in the room, the Vice Headmistress and Death Scythe, Ichijiku Kadenokouji, who tapped her nails on the wood of the table. “Address the _Headmistress_ with proper respect, Meister Ichiro Yamada.”

Ichiro grit his teeth and clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. Damn them, he’d give them a piece of his mind if he could… but he couldn’t risk everything just for this. This was for his brothers’ sake, he told himself as he let out a slow breath.

“...Touhouten- _sama_ ,” he started again, his voice calm but strained. “It was past midnight by the time the soul of Hayabusa was taken. I didn’t want to bother you when it was already so late, and my brothers needed their rest.”

Another non-committal hum from Otome. “And where are your brothers right now?”

“Combat lessons. They have an assessment that should be starting about now.”

This seemed to appease her. “Very well. But do not let this happen again. You and your brothers being so young gives you no excuse to falter in your responsibilities to your divisions or to this country. Is that understood?”

 _Just grit your teeth and bear it, Ichiro._ “Understood, ma’am.”

“Good. Now then, since you have the free time, I wish to hear the results of your mission in _detail._ And afterwards, we will carefully go over your next.” Finally, Otome looked at him… though it was clear she was looking _down_ on him. “With your brothers in class, surely you have the time.”

This was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

 

“Heeeey, Jiro-kun! Where's Ichiro-sensei today?”

Jiro looked up from his manga to the boy who approached him, a friendly kid named Hanta, a weapon like himself. He was a pretty cool guy in Jiro’s book--even if he was a little bit of a cocky asshole sometimes. But so was Jiro, so it balanced out.

“Huh? What’re you asking for nii-san for, Hanta?”

Hanta just grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “C’mon, you know why! Ichiro-sensei’s the absolute coolest teacher in Shibusen, and he’s late!  Usually you all come in together, so I thought you’d know--”

“What Ichi-nii does is not anyone else’s concern but his own, so why should an idiot like _you_ have to know?” Saburo cut in, not looking up from his handheld game as he spoke.

“Oi, Saburo--”

“Tch…” Jiro was interrupted by the harsh click of Hanta’s tongue, and his expression went from jovial to angry in a heartbeat. “ I don’t remember asking _you._ God, you’ve always got the smartass comebacks; I’m sick of it, and so’s everyone else, you know. You really think you’re hot shit, just because you skipped a couple of grades?”

“One, it _definitely_ means I’m better than you,” Saburo retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Two, I really don’t care what you lot think about me.  And three, who said gutter _trash_ like you could use my name so familiarly?”

That seemed to do it for the older weapon; he moved to step forward and grab him, but was stopped by Jiro, who grabbed his friend’s wrist and gave him a harsh glare.

“Hey man, he’s a shit, but that doesn’t mean you get to put a hand on him.”

Hanta glared right back. “So you’re just gonna let him say all the bullshit he wants?”

“‘Course not. But Saburo’s _my_ responsibility, not yours. If you wanna fight someone, then I’ll take you on--”

“ _Aaah_ , energetic as always, even when it’s so early… guess that’s just how kids are nowadays...”

Everyone in the room turned at the sounds of the voice, watching as an extremely tired looking man with messy red hair walked in, looking slowly around the room before his eyes landed on Jiro and Hanta.

“Yamada-kun, Tsukasa-kun, save the fighting for the assessment please. Or at least give me a chance to do roll call first if you want an official duel beforehand.”

When neither boy moved, Saburo sighed, turned off his game, and stood to grab Jiro’s arm, pulling his brother back. “Jiro… just leave it.”

Thankfully, Jiro didn’t put up any struggle, just settling for clicking his tongue and backing off, shaking Saburo’s hand off him. Doppo sighed at the display.

“It’s always _something_ with this class… maybe it’s because I haven’t been the best teacher? Yes, that’s most likely it; it’s not like I’m ven properly qualified for this… Ichiro’s certainly a better instructor than I am, even if he is ten years my junior... I should just go back to my office job and wallow in my own pathetic existence--”

“Doppo-sensei,” someone called. “You’re muttering again!”

“Ah, s-sorry, sorry!” Seemingly shaking himself out of his spiral, Doppo cleared his throat. “A-anyway… as you all know, you have a combat assessment today. Everyone speak loud and clear as I call roll. And…” He trailed off, taking a moment to roll up the sleeves of his button up shirt. “Be prepared, because I won’t be going easy on any of you.”

* * *

 

“I~chi~ro~!”

Ichiro barely had enough time to react before he was suddenly tackled from behind by a shockingly _strong_ force with bright pink hair, nearly knocking him to the hallway floor.

“Wha--!” Staggering and only _just_ keeping himself from eating dust on the smooth tile below, he sighed and frowned down at his ‘assailant’. “For the last time, _stop_ doing that, Ramuda. I don’t wanna have a heart attack at nineteen.”

Ramuda grinned up at him, giggling in his usual childish manner before releasing him. “Hehe~. But Ichiro always looks soooo cute when he’s surprised, I just couldn’t help it! And you don’t come and see me anymore, now that you’re head of your division and all… I’m _soooo_ lonely!”

 _Still as much of a kid as ever_ , Ichiro thought as he rolled his eyes. Honestly, if he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that Ramuda was younger than Saburo, and not five years his senior. “Lonely? You’re a division leader too… don’t you have _your_ team?”

Ramuda stuck out his tongue with a ‘bleh!’ sound. “What, so that means you’re allowed to just forget about me? Mean Ichiro, you’re gonna make me cry~!” He sniffled. “What happened to the cute kid who would always come by my desk to see me? _Waaaaah!_ ”

Definitely hadn’t changed a bit; Ichiro had to laugh as he reached down to pat Ramuda’s head. “Alright, alright! Tell you what, next time we’re both free, we can hang out and catch up, yeah?”

Blessedly, this seemed to appease Ramuda--thank _god_ , because Ichiro really didn’t want to continue to deal with the shrillness of Ramuda Amemura’s crocodile tears--and he was hugged once again. “Yay! I love, love, _love_ you, Ichiro~!”

“...If I may interrupt?”

Both Ichiro and Ramuda turned to the new voice approaching behind, and Ichiro smiled.

“Jakurai-sensei,” he greeted politely. “This is a surprise, I thought you’d be busy. Do you need something?”

Jakurai smiled in return. “As it just so happens, I was hoping you could spare me a few moments of your time, Ichiro-kun.” His gaze shifted to Ramuda, and the smile faded just slightly, almost unnoticeably. “Unless you two are busy…”

Ramuda muttered something far too lowly for Ichiro or Jakurai to hear, and his smile turned frosty, but just as bright. “Ahaha, does the good doctor need to borrow Ichiro? Then that means it time for me to go bye-bye! Let’s play together soon, okay Ichiro?” Releasing him, the shortest of the three waved and skipped away, humming a song to himself.

Ichiro watched him go with a bemused smile. “Even after all this time, he still hasn’t changed…” He shook his head and turned back to Jakurai. “What did you need, Sensei?”

There was an unreadable look in Jakurai’s eyes as he watched Ramuda go as well, but it disappeared as soon as Ichiro addressed him. “Ah, yes. I was hoping to have you in my office for a while. You recently completed a mission, correct?”

Ichiro couldn’t hold back his disbelieving scoff. “Whaaat, c’mon Sensei! I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need a check up!” He waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, if you wanna be worried about anyone, then worry about my brothers first--”

“--And I shall be seeing them soon anyway, once their assessment with Doppo-kun is complete.” The doctor crossed his arms, his stance firm and unyielding. “‘A sound soul dwells within a sound mind _and_ a sound body’, Ichiro-kun. Or have you forgotten the most basic of lessons already, after just two years out of school?”

One thing that hasn't changed about Jakurai, was that the doctor knew exactly how to go for the throat. Ichiro had to laugh. “‘Course not. Alright, guess I’ve got no choice. Lead the way, Doc.”

Pleased, Jakurai nodded. “Then let us step into my office, Ichiro-kun.”

* * *

 

Jakurai’s office--and the school’s medical ward--was a place that matched the doctor to a T. Simple and professional, there was nary a hint of any personal items, save for a framed picture on the desk and an overly cutesy looking lunch box decorated with yellow roses that had a half eaten bento inside. There were medical papers arranged this way and that--which Ichiro wouldn’t even _try_ to decipher.

“Please, have a seat,” Jakurai stated, gesturing to the chair next to the medical bed.

From there, it was just a standard check up that Ichiro remembered having a countless amount of times as a student. The doctor checked his blood pressure, breathing, shone a light in his eyes to check the dilation of his pupils, and so on. Afterwards, he asked Ichiro several questions on how the events of last night took place.

“I swear on my soul, Jakurai-sensei, he didn’t get a hit on me at all. It was over as quick as it started.” He wouldn’t help but say that with a fair amount of pride and a slight puff of his chest, both for himself and his brothers.

To his credit, Jakurai merely chuckled at the posturing. “I see. Well, everything seems to be normal, and as I said, I will be seeing your brothers soon… and speaking of whom, I wished to ask you something.”

“What’s up?”

“You and Saburo-kun were able to achieve Soul Resonance, albeit for a short time, correct?” As Ichiro’s confirming nod, Jakurai continued. “And you are unable to do so with Jiro-kun?”

Ichiro nodded with a slight frown; this was an ongoing issue. Despite being brothers and their soul wavelengths matching near perfectly, just like with Saburo, Ichiro and Jiro were unable to resonate their souls with one another. It worried him, infuriated Jiro, and amused Saburo to no end.

Jakurai hummed. “Blatantly speaking, this is concerning to me, both as a doctor and as your friend. Have you considered speaking with Nemu-kun on this matter; she is the most talented when it comes to the resonances of the soul. Or… perhaps you could consult Sama--”

“ _No._ ” Ichiro’s reply was immediate, curt and angry, but he instantly regretted his tone upon seeing Jakurai’s disapproving frown. Sighing, he looked away. “...Sorry. I’ll talk to Nemu-chan when I get the chance, just--”

Of all people, Ichiro absolutely refused to ask _him_ for help. Never mind that he’d probably get shit on for it, but his brothers were his own responsibility, no one else’s. He could get advice from Nemu or figure this out himself, nothing more.

Jakurai was silent for a while, and then he hummed. “I understand.” When Ichiro looked up, the doctor was smiling in understanding and, from what Ichiro could tell, an oddly placed sadness. “Just promise me that you will take care of yourself, Ichiro-kun. Do not be afraid to ask for help, if you truly need it.”

If Ichiro was being completely honest, he’d rather not ask anyone for help. He’d taken care of his brothers since they were small, all on his own, and with no one to help them but themselves. And he’d say that they all came out perfectly fine for it. Ichiro got by fine without help before, and he’d be fine now. But, of course, he couldn’t tell Jakurai that.

Chuckling, he just smiled and gave the doctor a thumbs up. “Will do, Doc.”

_On my soul, I won’t let anything touch them. I swear it._


	2. MTC In The Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When trouble strikes Yokohama, Samatoki and his team quickly realize that things aren't as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big BIG thanks to Robyn [@weaselbites](https://twitter.com/weaselbites) for beta reading this chapter! I love you!! <3

One thing that a person had to know when visiting the Yokohama district was that things were never quite what they seemed. On the surface, visitors would come for the sight of Japan’s second largest city, or to relax to the sound of the waves crashing against the bayside. But just beneath the surface of the facsimile of peace… there was so much more.

Yokohama, in fact, was nothing less than a  _ war zone. _

“We’re under fire; take cover!”

“Where the hell did these assholes get actual guns from?!”

“They didn’t, those are Demon Weapons, dumbass!”

“Where the  _ fuck  _ is the boss?!”

Rogue weapons and meisters crawling out of their holes in an attempt to start some hamfisted ‘revolution’, and thanks to most of the mayhem happening on their turf, now the _yakuza,_ of all things, had to get involved. Which was probably just as well, considering they most likely would have gotten involved _anyway_ , but still.

Well, there were a lot more rebels than originally expected. And their own injured count was steadily growing.

“This ain’t good… we’re gonna get wiped out in no time,” one man grumbled, dragging another wounded out of the line of fire. “Either we retreat or we die here, there ain’t no other option.”

“Run away with our dicks in our own asses and abandon  _ our  _ turf? Fuck no!” another yakuza shouted--a man by the name of Tanba--shouted, firing a few shots back from his own Demon Weapon, before taking over again when he got about twice the amount of bullets he fired shot right back at him. “We just gotta hold out and--”

In the next moment, he was cut off with a fresh round of screams. Only, they weren’t coming from their side this time--they came from the opposite side of the makeshift battlefield, on the  _ rebel  _ side. Chancing a look, Tanba grinned when he saw two, no,  _ three  _ of the rebels drop.

“See? Aniki’s already here.”

* * *

 

“ _ Targets in sight. Six souls locked on.” _

Samatoki Aohitsugi was crouched low, concealed in his hiding spot as he aimed a sniper rifle down below. With one eye closed and the other trained inside the scope, he stared unblinking at the back of one of the rebel’s heads. There were a hell of a lot of them, and if he were any ordinary gunman, this might have been a problem.

Too bad for them, Samatoki was no ordinary gunner.

“Status, Riou.”

“ _ Fully loaded and ready to fire.” _

Taking in a slow drag from the cigarette hanging off his lips, he exhaled slowly, waiting until the smoke faded into the atmosphere. Once the last bit of it was completely gone, he wasted not another millisecond and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out loud and proud, hitting his mark dead on. But even as the bastard fell, it didn’t stop there; the bullet  _ kept going.  _ Whistling through the air, it moved on and hit the next rebels in the side of the head, then the next one in the forehead. The bullet didn’t stop until six rebels were now dead on the ground, their souls manifesting and floating without a care above their corpses.

_ “Targets eliminated.” _

“Could figure that out for m’self,” Samatoki muttered, taking another drag as he stood. The rebels have definitely figured out where the shots were coming from by now; they might be absolute morons, but they still were somewhat organized.

_ “Well, are you going to do something, or just stand around like a cocky asshole?”  _ Samatoki’s eye twitched at his second partner’s jab. _ “Your men  _ are  _ still dying, you know--” _

“Shut the fuck  _ up,  _ Jyuto--”

_ “This is not the time,”  _ Riou interrupted, and though he was in his weapon form, Samatoki could picture the frown on his face clearly.  _ “There are still enemies on the field.” _

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Despite Jyuto’s words, Samatoki’s stride was as casual as it could be as he walked right into the enemy, Riou’s sniper rifle form propped on his shoulder. It wasn’t long before every eye was on him, frozen and seemingly at a loss of what to do.

Morons.

“So?” Samatoki called, voice raised. “You the so-called ‘rebels’ causin’ shit in my territory. Pretty ballsy of ya, ain’t it?”

Two beats. And then…  _ chaos. _

Somewhere, a shrill male screech was heard. “Kill him!”

A laugh. “Tear him apart!”

“Destroy the government’s dog!”

_ That  _ got to Samatoki; a vein pulsed in his temple, and he slowly took the cigarette from his mouth.

“Who the  _ fuck…”  _ he barked, dropping the stick and  _ stomping  _ it out with angry force. “...are you callin’ a dog of the government?!  _ Huh?!” _

_ “They definitely won’t be living long,”  _ Jyuto remarked snidely.

With a growl, Samatoki lifted Riou for another shot, not bothering to look through the scope again as he fired, the bullet whizzing out and taking out six more targets, just before they were about to pull their own triggers on him. Hoisting Riou onto the holder on his back, Samatoki bared his teeth and pulled out the silver pistol on his hip.

“Jyuto!”

“ _ Locked and loaded.” _

Rallied by the cries of “Aniki”, the resounding cheers in the distance and fueled by his own anger, he ripped through the group of twenty-something remaining rebels like they were paper.

It was over in only ten minutes.

* * *

 

“God  _ fucking  _ dammit,” Samatoki muttered, dangling from a cigarette from his lips as he flicked the lighter over and over, progressively getting more and more irritated when no flame emerged. “Fucking  _ shit-- _ ”

_ “Alright, enough already.”  _ With a flash of light, the pistol at Samatoki’s hip, as well as the rifle strapped on his back, transformed from weapons to men. One rolled his eyes and just pulled out his own lighter.

“Keep pissing yourself off and we won’t get anything done,” Jyuto Iruma commented, passing the lighter to his meister, who snatched with with a click of the tongue. “Really, is that anyway to treat someone who just did you a favor,  _ Samatoki-sama _ ?”

“Piss off,” was all Samatoki replied, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.

“Smoking is bad for you, Samatoki,” Riou Mason Busujima remarked, not for the first time, eyeing the cigarette between his meister’s lips as if ready to snatch it and stomp it out. Of course, he refrained, knowing that such an action would probably lose him a finger or two.

“You shut it too, Riou. If you’re both gonna team up and bitch at me, do it later.” Slowly, he sighed out a cloud of smoke, just as one of his subordinates approached. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Aniki!” Tanba called, panting as he ran up to the three. “That… that was amazing! You took out that entire crowd all on you own! Totally saved our asses--”

“Yeah, yeah, quit suckin’ my dick and get on with it already.” Samatoki rolled his eyes. “What the hell happened here, Tanba? We leave for a day and suddenly an entire rebel group decides to grow a pair?”

Jyuto made a contemplating sound. “Even if we were absent, nothing like this has ever happened before… and surely they knew that we wouldn’t be gone for long.”

Tanba fidgeted. “Your guess is as good as mine; we knew about the rebel activity around these parts--there’s always fuckers around going on about taking down the government--but I never thought they’d try a direct attack like this.”

Samatoki nodded, frowning in thought. As annoyed as he was, he was clear headed enough to know that this wasn’t normal. He was used to the odd dipshit here and there, getting themselves onto Death’s List somehow… but a full-on frontal assault? It took a lot of guts to pull something like that off, and Samatoki wanted to know just  _ where  _ those guts came from.

However, just as he was about to speak again, his phone rang in his pocket. Pulling it out, he took a second to look at the caller ID before turning away. “Jyuto, Riou, you handle this. Figure out what the hell happened and get as much info out of the survivors as you can.”

Jyuto sighed, but nodded. “Got it.”

Riou saluted. “Understood.”

 

Walking off, Samatoki answered the phone without any further delay, breathing out another puff of smoke. “Hey, Nemu… class done already?”

A soft laugh on the other end, one that had Samatoki’s expression gentling without his permission. “ _ Just about. With so many students here, things can get a little hectic… I only just now got some time to myself.” _

“If it’s too much, you know you can always just--”

“ _ I’m not quitting, onii-chan, no matter how badly you want me to,”  _ Nemu interrupted. “ _ It’s hard sometimes, but I do enjoy teaching here. Everyone’s a huge help, and very kind to me on top of that.” _

Samatoki really doubted that  _ everyone  _ was as kind as Nemu claimed, but he knew better than to argue with his little sister when her mind was made up. “Fine, fine. But the moment things start going south, I’m pulling you outta there myself.”

A giggle. “ _ Of course.” _

Samatoki sighed. “...How was your day, anyway?”

“ _ Just fine… oh! There was something I wanted to ask you, onii-chan…” _

Uh-oh. He knew that tone; it was sugar sweet and a little pleading, which meant only one thing: Nemu was about to ask something that he was  _ definitely  _ going to say no to. “...What is it?” he asked in the flattest tone he could manage.

Nemu, to her credit, didn’t falter.  _ “It’s really nothing major… one of the students if having a lot of trouble maintaining Soul Resonance, so I was wondering if you could help him--” _

“You wouldn’t ask me like this if it was just any student. Who is it, Nemu?”

_ “...Jiro Yamada--” _

“No.”

_ “Come on, seriously! He’s having a really hard time; more so than he should be!”  _ Nemu argued.

Samatoki clicked his tongue. “Then why doesn’t his shitty ass older brother help him out, then?” Surely high and mighty brocon Ichiro Yamada wouldn’t just sit by while his precious little brother was struggling so much, right?

“ _ He’s tried, but he doesn’t know what to do. He asked me for advice today, but I’m not a meister, so there’s only so much I can do…” _

“So instead of continuing to try, he gives up and pushes his shitty problems on you?” A ‘tsk’. “Fuckin’ typical…”

_ “Please don’t be like this, onii-chan… Ichiro-kun’s really kind, and you and he used to be--” _

“ _ Stop _ . My answer is  _ no,  _ Nemu.”

It wasn’t often that Samatoki actually told his sister no, but this was the one thing he wouldn’t budge on. And Nemu could clearly tell, because a resigned sigh was heard on the other end of the line. “... _ Fine. I guess I’ll see if Jakurai-san or Ramuda-san can help...” _

Their conversation didn’t last for much longer; Samatoki made the promise to visit Nemu in Chuuoku soon before hanging up, muttering a low “Love you” so his subordinates wouldn’t hear. Walking back over to the group, he raised an eyebrow at seeing distinct frowns on both Jyuto and Riou’s faces.

“You both look like a dog just pissed on your shoes. What’s up?”

“Eloquent as always.” Jyuto rolled his eyes. “We questioned all of the survivors, but honestly… there’s not much we could get from any of them. In fact, we’ve got jack shit.”

Samatoki’s skeptical expression shifted to a confused scowl. Around five or so survivors from the rebel group, and  _ none  _ of them could give them any useful information? “Bullshit. Show me where they are;  _ I’ll  _ talk to them.”

Riou and Jyuto shared a  _ look,  _ and Jyuto shrugged. “Fine. You’ll see what I mean when you… talk to them.”

The slight pause in Jyuto’s sentence didn’t escape Samatoki, but they were already moving. Stepping aside, Riou gestured inside a small nearby dilapidated building, where they were temporarily holding their ‘prisoners’. Walking up to one--an honestly gangly man who had his head down--Samatoki nudged him with a foot. “Oi.”

Slowly,  _ too slowly,  _ the guy raised his head. The eyes looking up at Samatoki were unnervingly dead looking, but he didn't let his discomfort show.

“You know you’re pretty much dead, right? Your little party got crashed, and most of your buddies are dead. If you don’t wanna end up like them, I’d suggest you tell me just what the fuck you thought you had to gain with all this shit.”

Silence. A beat of dead, unsettling silence. And then the weirdest thing happened. The skinny, injured, tied up man in front of him started  _ laughing.  _ And not just him…  _ all  _ of the surviving rebels started laughing.

_ Now,  _ Samatoki let his unease show. “What the fuck…” He growled and grabbed the gangly one by the collar, hoisting him up. “What the  _ fuck  _ is so funny, asshole?! Huh?!”

He just  _ kept on laughing,  _ and the grin he gave the yakuza boss was so twisted and  _ creepy  _ that Samatoki immediately dropped him.

“Jyuto and I received the same response when we tried to question them,” Riou stated, looking over the rebels with clear displeasure. “None of them would give us a single answer, they just… laughed.”

Samatoki shook his head, looking over the rebels before clicking his tongue, and he looked to Tanba. Giving the signal to take them all out, he left the building, Jyuto and Riou following behind.

“What kinda cultist shit was  _ that?” _ Samatoki asked, pissed off and confused. Never a good combination.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like  _ that  _ in cults, Samatoki,” Riou pointed out.

“‘Madness’.” Both men looked over to Jyuto, who was lighting two cigarettes, passing one to Samatoki and ignoring Riou’s disapproving frown. “You could see it in their eyes. Unfocused, looking all over the place. I’d think they were high, but they weren’t showing side effects of any drug I’ve ever seen.”

Samatoki didn’t doubt that. The war on drugs had been Jyuto’s area when he was still a cop. Four years of being out of the force didn’t rid him of any of that knowledge… not when Samatoki knew for a fact that his partner still did research and kept up with any new drug that hit the streets to this day.

Humming to show he was listening, the meister took a slow drag. “Still… weren’t the rumors of Madness just a myth? Stories just to scare baby meisters and weapons into behaving?”

“They’re more than just rumors, Samatoki,” Riou stated. “In Death City, there was almost a full scale war raged, with the  _ Kishin _ \--the source of Madness--at the center of it all.”

Oh  _ right,  _ there was a whole thing about that, years ago. It was before Samatoki had even known he was a meister, so he hadn’t put much thought into the so-called ‘news’ and dismissed it as mere stories.

Still… “You seem pretty sure about it, Riou.”

Riou was silent for a moment, his expression a bit drawn. “I… had family, who lived in Death City at the time.”

...Oh. “Shit… sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Samatoki then fell silent, thinking on this. If this was true, and it was Madness that affected all these dipshit rebels… then this was  _ bad.  _ Because no one was really  _ immune  _ to it, and if small fry like this could be so completely affected, then what about bigger names, with more time, money, and Demon Weapons to spare?

...God _ dammit. _

Jyuto caught the look in his meister’s eyes. “You’ve got a plan. What do you want to do, Samatoki?”

“We’ll follow you anywhere,” Riou added.

Samatoki looked between his two trusted partners, then heaved a heavy sigh. “...Looks like we’re taking a trip to Chuuoku.”

Seems he’d be seeing Nemu sooner than he thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit difficult for me, because I had a bit of trouble properly grasping MTC's characterization. But I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> Come and hang out with me on my twitter [@amemuralovemail](https://twitter.com/amemuralovemail) !

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so glad i managed to get this out on my birthday, i hope you all enjoyed this! let me know what you think, and feel free to come hang out with me on my twitter @/amemuralovemail!


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